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Camp Torowa Falls
#5: Holding Pattern

by Bobby Watson

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Copyright on this story text belongs at all times to the original author only, whether stated explicitly in the text or not. The original date of posting to the MMSA was: 06 May 2005


CP Fiction by Bobby Watson

Copyright © 2005 Bobby Watson, All Rights Reserved.

(Author Note: This is the fifth episode in a series. The characters and situations were introduced in the story:
Camp Torowa Falls 1: Wet Sheets Lead to Sore Rumps.
Read that episode first! Then read episodes 2 through 4 before reading this one!) -----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

(Warning! The following story contains a graphic account of extreme humiliation of young boys, including involuntary public urination. If this kind of thing turns you off, you would be well advised to skip this episode and continue on to episode 6.
You won't miss much, since a brief synopsis of the events in this episode will be included in a future "Kyles Journal" episode.
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Corey Lane stifled a curse as he stubbed a toe on a rock and stumbled, just barely avoiding a fall. It wasn't easy for the 12-year-old to keep his footing, what with his hands cuffed securely behind his back. He couldn't believe he was in this situation.

Careful to keep his head down, looking for obstacles that might trip him up, Corey followed the lead of Jerry Farnham, his best friend here at Camp Torowa Falls. Jerry's hands were behind his back, bound with soft leather cuffs just like Corey's. Below the cuffed hands was his compact, 12-year-old backside, covered only by tight white briefs. But mostly Corey keep an eye on Jerry's bare feet, picking out a path on the trail along which they were being herded.

Jerry tripped over a tree root, and nearly fell. This brought laughter from their fully clothed guards, their 11-year-old former victims. Corey had a little trouble sympapthizing with Jerry right now, since it was his idea that led to them being in this mess.

Corey carefully stepped over the root, then turned to watch Eric Linsey, the next boy in line, step over it too. Eric, like all the prisoners, was clad only in white briefs, his hands cuffed behind his back. Corey turned and continued along the trail, following Jerry towards their doom.

Corey shook his head again in disbelief at his situation. It had *seemed* like a good idea at the time. If only they had known what a disaster it would turn into. They would have been much better off doing nearly anything else.

Jerry was the one who came up with the idea, silly and stupid though it was. Jerry was the one who knew that if you dip the fingers of a sleeping person into warm water, that person is likely to pee himself. The rest of them thought he was full of crap... until he made 11-year-old Paulie Jenkins wet his bed the first night. Everyone in the cabin teased Paulie the next morning, which made for good fun. It was even more fun watching the little brat buck and squirm over the foot of his bed, howling as Jeff, their cabin counselor, seared his backside with a wooden paddle.

Things kind of spun out of control after that. Corey had succesfully made Kyle Garlin pee himself the second night - it served the self-righteous little freak right. Eric had made Lionel Harper wet his bed the third night. For some reason the conspirators had thought if only one boy peed his bed each night nobody would be suspicious. The teasing of the "babies" was fun for all. Plus this would ensure some "entertainment", seeing the bedwetters paddled before breakfast each morning. Corey's enjoyment of Kyle's paddling had been marred by the fact that Corey also got paddled, for having another one of "those dreams."

Stupid Tony Lansing. Stupid f-ing Tony! Corey had never really trusted the little 11-year-old turd. But for some reason Jerry, the natural leader of their gang, had wanted Tony on their team. Not only did Tony wake up Willie Strand while trying to make him pee on the fourth night, he immediately ratted on the other three boys when confronted by Jeff.

They were all pissed at Tony, and hoped he would get paddled just like the rest of them. It turned out they were partially vindicated. Tony would end up being punished the same as the other three, but it would be much worse than a simple paddling.

At breakfast the next morning, none of the culprits were much inclined to eat. They all expected the paddle or the strap to fall at morning assembly right after the meal. There was a definite buzz around the mess hall, as everyone seemed aware that they were in trouble. Public whippings were always appreciated by the boys, provided they were not, themselves, the recipient of the procedure.

At morning assembly the four culprits were called to the front of the hall by Boss Lemmon, the camp director. He detailed their crimes, pointing out how cruel it was to make fellow campers wet their beds intentionally. Finally, he called up the four victims, three of whom didn't seem terribly happy to be publicly identified as bedwetters, no matter how much it wasn't their fault.

The four "victims" cheered up considerably when ordered to strip the four culprits to their underpants, right there in front of the whole camp. Corey's face flushed as Kyle Garlin, a bible-thumping little 11-year-old brat, stripped him down to his white jockey briefs.

While the victims huddled with Boss Lemmon, the camp was treated to the sight of four blushing culprits, standing facing the audience with their hands on their heads. Corey glanced over and noticed that Jerry was tenting his briefs noticably. That guy could get hard anywhere, anytime it seemed. Corey was way too scared right now to be hard down there. Boss Lemon was famous for razor-strapping guys their age to tears.

Corey glanced at Eric, who looked scared enough to piss himself right there in front of everybody. Quickly enough the victims returned and ordered the culprits to put their hands behind their backs. Corey was surprised to feel Kyle place a leather cuff around this right wrist, then his left. The cuffs weren't terribly uncomfortable, but totally restricted movement of his hands.

Corey didn't like the way this was headed. Securing their hands could only mean one thing, the four culprits were definitely in for a serious thrashing. He didn't have to wait long to hear their sentence.

Boss Lemmon then explained the punishment to come, and it was a doozie! Since these four boys thought it was funny when boys peed on themselves and got paddled for it, they were going to get a chance entertain the other campers by peeing on themselves several times throughout the day, and getting paddled for it. Corey definitely didn't like the sound of that.

All four culprits were made to drink a 16 ounce glass of water. This treatment would be repeated at every break and meal to make sure the culprits didn't "get thirsty". The four doomed boys would be herded from actvity to activity as the day progressed, but wouldn't be allowed to participate. When one of them wet his pants, he would be given five hard swats of a wooden camp paddle on his bare butt. But so would every other boy who had already wet himself! So it obviously paid to be the last boy to wet himself. This promised to be a long day.

They had all made it through archery, the first activity, with dry pants. Tony was already shifting nervously, and Corey hoped that the little traitor would be the first one to wet himself. He deserved more whacks than the rest of them. Now as they stumbled along to the basketball courts, Corey was glad he had relieved himself just before breakfast. He remembered seeing Jerry in the bath house around the same time, so they might have an advantage over the other two boys.

As Fox Cabin began their basketball game against Wolf Cabin (another cabin with 11-12 year old boys), Paulie Jenkins stood guard over the prisoners. The four condemned boys themselves spent little time watching the game, and most of their time watching each other. Tony was still shifting nervously, but he was a high-strung kid anyway, so that might not mean much.

After about 15 minutes Corey noticed that Eric was starting to squeeze his legs together. Clearly the 12-year-old would have loved to grab his crotch, squeezing his penis to keep it from leaking. But his hands were cuffed behind his back, and he was reduced to trying to squeeze his pecker with his thighs. The attention of the other three prisoners and Paulie was firmly fixed on Eric, watching him dance and squeeze his legs madly together. This seemed pretty quick to Corey, but then Eric may not have relieved himself before breakfast. Not a smart move really, since he had to know he would probably at least be beaten at morning assembly.

Eric's frenzied dancing and squeezing went on for nearly 20 minutes. Lionel Harper stood guard over the prisoners, giving Paulie a chance to play. Just before the game was scheduled to end, Eric yelped in frustration and the others saw yellow liquid running down the inside of the boy's thighs. Lionel yelled, "Hey guys, Eric is peeing!"

The game stopped immediately as all the boys and the two counselors came over and watched Eric, red faced with tears of shame in his eyes, flood the crotch of his briefs, some of the stinky liquid falling directly from the pouch to the ground, the rest running down his thighs, watering the grass at his feet. Teasing murmurs could be heard from the assembled boys. Jeff said, "Eric, be sure to empty your bladder, and let us know when you're done."

Eric face turned even redder, which hardly seemed possible, but he nodded his head and softly said, "okay." Eventually the flow was reduced to where the pee was merely dripping from the soaked crotch, and Eric said, in what sounded like a stage whisper, "I'm done."

Jeff whispered something into Lionel's ear. The boy nodded, his face lit up and he immediately stepped in front of Eric. "Time to get these off, baby Eric!" Lionel said, reaching for the waistband of Eric's briefs. Corey noticed that Jeff was now holding his camp paddle, a no-nonsense wooden implement about two feet long and maybe 3 or 4 inches wide. It wasn't particularly thick, but Corey knew from experience that it packed a real sting, especially on the bare bottom.

Lionel lowered Eric's briefs, treating himself to a closeup view of Eric's package. Eric stepped out of the briefs. Jeff then hustled Eric over to a low bench at the side of the basketball court. He made Eric lay over the end of the bench, his torso resting on it, hands still cuffed behind him. Jeff carefully positioned Eric while everyone gathered around to watch the paddling. Lionel was enlisted to straddle the bench in front of Eric's head and press down on his back, to keep him from moving. The other three prisoners were placed nearby so they get a good view of the paddling in progress and, Corey presumed, to give them a good scare into the bargain.

Craackk! Craacckk! "Ooo!" Eric grunted. The way Jeff really gave a good wide backswing, and the extreme force with which he brought the paddle back into contact with Eric's rear end was more than a bit frightening, Corey had to admit. Craaccckk! Eric's bottom now looked as red as his face had when he was wetting his pants just minutes ago. Craacckk! "Owwww!" Eric's head shot up and he struggled to rise, to escape the burning pain in his backside, but Lionel managed to keep him pinned to the bench. Craaacckkk!

Eric managed to stay down, but his legs did kick out a bit after the last swat bit into his bottom cheeks. Jeff let Eric lay there for a minute while he arranged some things with their "guards". Corey had big butterflies in his stomach, since he could easily picture himself in the same position all too soon. He renewed his silent vow to be the last one to pee, so at least he'd only get five swats.

Eric's first paddling was over, but his humiliation wasn't. But he was too sore and scared to argue when the guards "took him in hand". The other prisoners looked on in horror when the little demons spread a towel on the other end of the bench. The next thing anyone knew, Eric's hand had been recuffed in front of him, and he was laying on his back on the towel on the bench. Kyle Garlin and Willie Strand had each grabbed one of Eric's ankles and were holding them back over his head. A basin of water, a washcloth and soap had made an appearance from somewhere, and Paulie was washing Eric's legs and nether region like a baby who had wet his diapers!

Next "Baby Eric" was dried with a towel, and then the little devils applied baby powder to his backside and groin area. Eric clearly couldn't believe this was happening, and neither could the other three prisoners. Corey was horrified at the thought that Eric might be put in diapers next! But the guards merely produced a clean pair of briefs and put them on Eric after they were done with him.

It was snack time next, and everybody rushed back to the mess hall. The prisoners remained cuffed, but their guards fed them a pack of peanut butter crackers each, and of course their 16 ounce glass of water. "You can't have any more food guys, but you can have all the water you want," Jeff told them with a wink. Corey hadn't noticed before what an insufferable smartass Jeff could be.

After morning break Fox Cabin headed out to the Climbing Tower. As the other campers began preparing for their climbs, Willie Strand took his turn guarding the prisoners. Corey soon noticed - with some satisfaction - that Tony seemed to be in trouble. He had pitched a small, but noticable tent in the front of his briefs and was shifting around more than even his nervousness could account for. If that indeed was a piss hard that Tony was sporting, Corey was about to move a step closer to "winning" this competition. So was Jerry, of course, but Corey could worry about that later.

Corey was definitely feeling a slight urge to urinate. It had been coming and going for nearly an hour, but now it seemed persistent. Still, nothing that he couldn't handle for at least another hour. He decided to take his mind off his bladder by actually watching the other guys tackle the Climbing Tower. It was one of Corey's favorite activities, and he was quite irritated that he would miss his turn today.

Corey was watching Steve Argyle reach the top of the Tower about 20 minutes later when he heard Willie yelling, "Tony's peeing! Tony's peeing!" Corey turned to look and, sure enough, Tony was standing there miserably, pee running down both legs, while tears ran down both cheeks. Everybody gathered around again to watch the thoroughly embarassed boy finish wetting himself. Tony was crying openly as Willie pulled down his briefs. His totally smooth and hairless crotch made it clear to everyone that Tony was still very much a boy, not a young man.

In another minute Tony was bent over a nearby bench, Jeff's paddle inscribing that wide arc in the air as it repeatedly crashed into Tony's shivering backside, eliciting howls from the sobbing boy. As the third Crraaacckk! rang out through the air and Willie struggled to keep Tony from jumping up, Corey noticed Eric shifting nervously from foot to foot. Then Corey remembered that Eric was due another dose of five swats as soon as Tony had received his allotment.

Soon enough Tony was dancing around and howling, his bottom cherry red and his bound hands clutched behind him, desperate to put out the fire that had been ignited in his backside. Jeff than called Eric forward. Eric bent over the end of the bench that had just been vacated by Tony. Jeff pulled Eric's briefs down to his ankles, baring his bottom for the paddle.

Jeff's paddle went back to work. Crraackk! Eric gasped a bit, but held his tongue. Crraacckk! Eric kicked his right leg, but only grunted a bit, as though the paddle whacks were pushing the air right out of his lungs. Crrraaacckk! "Yeow!" Eric yelped, clearly in agony.

As Eric yelped in pain, Corey's stomach did a little backflip, and he felt a sudden, very strong need to pee. Oh, god. Corey thought. I can't lose it just minutes after that little coward Tony. Crrraacckk! "Oooww!" Eric howled, his voice almost breaking with emotion.

Corey managed to get his stomach and his bladder muscles back under control, but this was all becoming very real now. Crrraacckk! As the last whack sizzled into Eric's trembling bottom and the boy howled again, Corey realized that he was going to find himself bent over a bench very soon. And that paddle would be burning it's message of obedience into his own backside. He found himself shivering in the warm summer air.

After Eric was let up off the bench to dance around and cope with his new pain as best he could, the guards proceeded to clean and powder little Tony. Corey couldn't help but think that Tony's hairless crotch made him look like a little preschool boy being cleaned up after having an accident in his brand new "big boy underpants". In fact his bright red nether cheeks and crying, contorted face made Tony look like a very naughty and well-spanked little boy.

The group next returned to Fox Cabin to change. They needed their swim suits for the rest of the day's activities. The group hiked over to Torowa Falls, the geographic feature after which the camp had been named. Torowa Falls, a series of three falls with a total drop of nearly 70 feet, emptied into Little Bear Lake, where the camp had all its watersports activities. This morning there would be swimming, their last activity before lunch. As they moved along the trail, the sound of the falls could be heard in the distance. Corey and Jerry spent a lot of time sneaking glances at each other, as it was now down to just them.

When they arrived at the lake the group was informed that they would be having their lunch at the lakeside picnic grounds today. Since their first activity after lunch was canoeing, also here at the lake, it would save them a round trip back to the mess hall. As their fellow campers started swimming class, the four prisoners and Paulie, their guard for the moment, were installed at a bench under a tree by the lakeside. Jeff had told them that they could sit down if they wanted to, and still could. (Ha, ha, ha!) But they were forbidden from peeing on the bench. Or on the picnic benches at lunchtime coming up. When they realized their time was near they should move away from the bench and/or picnic area and just try to water some plants or something. Apparently Jeff fancied himself a real comedian.

Corey did his level best not to show it, but he was starting to realize he was in real trouble. Those persistent messages from his bladder were getting more urgent by the minute. His penis was half-erect now, straining at the confines of his tightey whiteys. Corey was sure he was going to have to start squeezing his legs together soon to try and hold it in. But he mustn't show weakness, especially in front of Jerry. He sneaked a look at Jerry, who seemed cool as a cucumber. Damn him! Corey hoped that Jerry was putting on a bigger act than he was, and would soon jump up and start squeezing his legs together.

Corey tried to think of something else, anything else, except the urgent need to relieve the pressure on his bladder. He was an innocent party - well, mostly innocent. He didn't deserve ten whacks, Jerry did! It was his idea! Think of something else! But that wasn't easy, especially given the splashing of the water by the swimming boys, and the constant roar of the falls as they emptied their rushing waters into the lake. Add to all this the fact that his arms were becoming increasing uncomfortable from being cuffed behind his back all morning. He felt thoroughly miserable.

After a while Corey realized he was sweating. Good, anything to get some water out of his body without going through his bladder. It felt like the first 16 ounces of water they made him drink at breakfast were already in his bladder, and the 16 ounces he drank at morning break (now nearly 90 minutes ago) were knocking on the door. But there just wasn't any more room in there. Something had to give, and soon.

A quick look over towards Jerry showed him sitting there calmly, his legs apart. Jerry had pitched a tent in his briefs as well, but Corey knew that didn't necessarily mean anything. Jerry was always getting hard. He sure wasn't sweating, and didn't seem nervous.

Corey didn't want to make a move until the last possible second, in case Jerry was bluffing. He'd really rather get 5 whacks rather than 10. But Jeff had warned them that any peeing on a bench or in the picnic area would earn the culprit a double dose of his paddle. He definitely couldn't take 15 whacks, not the way Jeff was dishing them out today. Corey tried to enjoy what promised to be his last few minutes of pain-free sitting for a while. Sighing in anger and frustration, Corey finally jumped up from the bench and walked around the other side of the tree. Paulie and the other three prisoners quickly followed.

As Corey stood there in a patch of grass squeezing his legs together, the others watched him intently. Paulie and Jerry were both wearing big smirks on their faces. Tony and Eric both looked concerned and very nervous. It wasn't hard to imagine why. When Corey lost it, Tony and Eric would each be following him over the bench for their ration of paddle swats. As he stood there squeezing his thighs together, he realized how futile that was. He was mostly erect now, and his thighs couldn't reach his stiff wiener to pinch it shut.

But if he became completely hard, maybe he could keep from peeing indefinitely. Was that possible? Of course the way he felt right now, his bladder would probably explode inside him, causing him to die horribly or something. This was going to be a rough half hour coming up, that much was certain. Swimmers in the lake had noticed his plight, and were heading over towards the shore where they stood. Corey tried to turn his back to the lake, but Paulie made him turn around and face the lake, and the other campers.

Corey and Jerry were staring at each other now. Although Corey could detect an occasional nervous shift in Jerry's stance, he was clearly not in anything like the discomfort Corey was in. Corey couldn't believe he was gonna lose. As that thought crossed Corey's mind, his bladder spasmed again, forcing a powerful jet of pee out of his body. Corey felt it burn the inside of his stiff wiener before it blasted through the material of his briefs and splashed in the grass in front of him.

Corey stopped the stream almost immediately, but the damage was done. He looked down at his crotch in disbelief. There was an obvious stain at the spot in his briefs where his penis tip pushed against the material. After a moment's surprise, Paulie took up the cry of "Corey's peeing! Corey's peeing! Come watch the paddlings!"

Jerry was grinning like a cheshire cat, the creep! Tony and Eric were considerably less happy, since they were about to get paddled too. Tony looked ready to bawl again. Corey suddenly knew how he felt. He had squirted involuntarily, but now he was gonna have to will himself to empty the rest of his bladder. He didn't want to do it, especially with everyone gathering to watch.

Finally Corey stood up straight, stared Jerry right in the eye, and quite deliberately squeezed his bladder muscles. Instantly he felt the mild burning sensation in his wiener again as his pee streamed out of him under a pressure he had never felt before. He could see everyone staring at his crotch, but he refused to look himself. He could hear the liquid splashing in the grass, somewhat masked by the background noise of the nearby falls. Eventually he could feel warm liquid running down the inside of his right thigh. It was humiliating, but Corey willed himself not to blush.

At least he was finally losing his erection, Corey thought thankfully. Between embarassment and the reduced bladder pressure, his wiener was definitely getting softer. Corey was beginning to wonder how much liquid his bladder was holding. He had never peed this much before at one time in his life! He heard a kid from another cabin remark, "it's like he has a fire hose down there. It just keeps spraying." A number of kids, including Jerry, laughed heartily at that witicism. Corey willed himself not to blush. Jeff reminded Corey to tell them when he was finished.

Eventually the bladder pressure decreased, and his wiener softened enough so that the pee no longer splashed on the ground, but simply ran down the inside of his thighs. Corey willed himself not to blush.

Corey finally said, "I'm finished." Jeff ordered Kyle Garlin into action. Corey stepped out of his wet Jockey shorts as they were lowered by the younger boy. Then Kyle had his hand on Corey's right arm, still cuffed behind his back. Kyle was leading him back around the tree to the bench.

Corey stopped and stared at the bench. So this is where the three of them would suffer. He had been sitting there just minutes ago, and now he had to lay down and take a wicked paddling. At least he was only gonna get paddled twice. Plus when he was cleaned up, his hands would be recuffed in front of him. They were really getting sore from being bound behind his back all morning. Corey slowly became aware that everyone had gathered around the bench.

Then Kyle was pushing him down over the end of the bench. Corey's torso soon lay comfortably on the bench, his legs splayed out behind him. Then Kyle straddled the bench in front of his face, pressing down on Corey's back to keep him in place for the paddling. Corey suddenly found himself staring right at the crotch of Kyle's swim suit. Not his idea of a great view. Kyle was another "little kid" and Corey wondered if...

Craacckk! Corey was stunned by the force of the first swat, which seemed to push all the air out of his lungs in a ragged gasp. A split-second later the scorching burn arrived. Corey stifled a howl. This was gonna be intense. Where had Jeff learned to...

Craacckkk! Corey was suddenly glad that Kyle was holding him down, because he kicked out with his right leg before involuntarily trying to get up, away from the maddening pain. At least he hadn't howled yet. Corey stole a glance over his left shoulder just in time to see Jeff swing the paddle back for the third whack. He snapped his head forward again and firmly shut his eyes.

Crraaacckkk! "Yoooww!" Corey failed to stifle the howl this time as his left leg kicked. He couldn't believe that he could experience this much pain from a simple wooden paddle. Tears were standing in his eyes, as he stared at the tent in the front of Kyle's swim suit. Wait a minute...

Crraaaccckkk! "Ooooww!" Corey howled and kicked again, both legs thrashing for a few seconds before he settled down again. He couldn't believe it, but every whack had been harder than the last, which meant the fifth and final one would be real intense. And now that tent in Kyle's suit was even more pronounced. The righteous little creep was getting off on Corey's paddling. Just because he had made the little pecker wet his bed...

Crrraaacccckkk! Robbed of breath again, Corey was unable to scream in pain. Corey remained laying there, still in his world of pain, tears in his eyes. Then Kyle told him to get up off the bench.

Corey finally stumbled to his feet, and immediately started dancing, desperately trying to reach down far enough to rub his bottom with his cuffed hands. It didn't work. All he could do was reflexively squeeze and unsqueeze his butt cheeks, but it wasn't helping ease the pain. All of a sudden he looked down and realized that Kyle wasn't the only one who had been aroused by his paddling. He was shocked to see his sturdy erection flapping proudly in the breeze as he hopped around.

Corey tried turning this direction and that, but everywhere he turned there were people staring at him, and staring at his boner. Finally he gave up and stood facing the bench. At least he could watch the other two get it. Corey concentrated on stopping the flow of tears, and on making his erection subside.

Soon enough Tony was back over the bench. The little coward started kicking and thrashing continuously after the second whack, and had to be held down for the rest of his paddling. Tony stood forlornly next to Corey then, crying continuously.

As Eric reluctantly approached the bench, his briefs were well tented. Corey was amazed that Eric could get aroused by the paddlings, what with his own butt-busting yet to come. As Eric was positioned, Corey looked around a noticed that a number of the spectators were sporting tented swim suits. So a lot of people we enjoying this. Great. At least Corey had recovered enough to enjoy Eric's paddling properly. Jeff pulled down Eric's briefs, and his bottom was still quite red from his previous paddlings. Poor guy.

Crraacckk! "Oww!" Eric yelped, his legs thrashing. Corey did some quick math and realized that was the eleventh paddle whack Eric had taken today. Corey was glad he wasn't going to get that many.

Crraaacckk! "Oww! Oww! Ohhhh!" Eric complained, trying to get up. Lionel Harper easily kept him down on the bench. "Please stop!" Eric begged. Corey was surprised. Jeff just said, "Sorry, Eric, but you have to take your dose just like everyone else." Eric started sobbing audibly.

Crrraaacckk! "Oooohhh!" Eric yelped. He thrashed briefly, then settled back down.

Crrraaaccckk! "Yeeoooww!" Eric shrieked. He started crying openly.

Uh, oh, thought Corey. "He's peeing!" Someone said. Sure enough, Corey could see that Eric's stiff little hose was spraying pee on the ground at the end of the bench. Whispered conversations could be heard throughout the crowd. Jeff pulled the briefs off of Eric's ankles and threw them on the ground at the end of the bench.

"You get five extra whacks for that, Eric," said Jeff. Eric just kept crying. "Here comes number five," said Jeff.

Crraaacckk! "Oww!" Eric groaned. He was still crying, his hose still leaking pee, flopping around as he was paddled. His discarded briefs were soon soaked through with the yellow liquid.

Corey was sure glad he wasn't in Eric's position just now - his bottom cheeks were turning a dangerous shade of red. Crraaacckk! "Oww!" Eric groaned.

Crraaaccckk! Eric jerked his legs, but made no sound.

Crraaaccckk! "Ahh!" Eric grunted. He kicked again. Corey was sure glad he didn't have to take ten whacks like that. Five nearly did him in. In fact, he was now hoping that Jerry could hold out for a long time.

Crrraaaccckk! "Yippp!" Eric yelped. His whole body thrashed once, then settled. Eric had finally stopped leaking pee. Corey looked over at Jerry, who had a really worried look on his face. Corey wondered how long he could hold out.

Crrraaaccckkk! Eric groaned a bit, but said nothing. Corey was sure glad that was over.

Eventually Lionel started helping Eric up off the bench. Corey watched Jerry, trying to figure out if Jerry's bladder was nearly at the end of its rope. It sure would be easier to sit comfortably for lunch if he could avoid the last five whacks until afterwards.

Soon Eric was standing unsteadily next to Corey. The poor guy didn't even have enough energy to dance as he got off the bench. Corey looked over the his friend with sympathy. "Okay, Corey," said Jeff. Corey stepped forward, expecting to be recuffed for his cleaning and powdering. "Get over the bench, son," said Jeff. He pointed the paddle at the end of the bench just vacated by Eric.

Corey's stomach started to churn. This couldn't be happening. He shook his head emphatically no and asked "Why?"

"I know you don't want to, Corey," said Jeff, "but rules are rules. Get over the bench. You have five whacks coming."

Corey took an involuntary step backwards instead. "It was only supposed to be the first time we peed!" he said.

"Then you didn't listen very closely to Boss Lemmon." said Jeff. to read Corey's mind. "You'll each get five whacks every time any one of you pees, until dinner time tonight!" Corey felt his eyes nearly bug out of his head at this news. Looking around for help, guidance...anything, Corey could see the look of horror on Tony and Eric's faces as well. Only Jerry seemed unsurprised.

"Well, come on boy," said Jeff. "Let's get on with it. Bend over the bench" Reluctantly, oh so reluctantly, Corey resumed his position over the end of the bench. Then Kyle straddled the bench again to hold them down, and Corey was treated to his familiar view of the front of Kyle's swim suit. Corey noticed that it was still tented quite significantly. The little bible-thumping pervert was getting off on their spankings. How ironic, just because Corey and his friends enjoyed seeing the little twerps' wet beds, and the little brats getting paddled for it. Hmmm. Maybe they have a point...

Crraacckk! "Yeow!" Corey yelped. He kicked for several seconds before settling down.

Crraaacckk! "Yeeooowl!!" Corey screamed. He thrashed around for a few seconds then finally settled. He wasn't sure he could get through this without being held down.

Crraaaccckk! "Ooohh!" Corey grunted. Hey, that didn't hurt as much. Either Jeff was finally getting tired, or Corey's ass was getting numb. Either way, he'd take it!

Crrraaaccckk! "Oww!" Corey grunted. Just one more to go, he just might survive this now.

Crrraaaccckkk! "Aaahhh!!" Corey croaked. He kicked again, then settled. Glad this was over, Corey sure hoped there were no more surprises in store. He couldn't take much more of this.

Corey stumbled back off the bench and performed a half-hearted dance of pain. At least his erection was gone. He got back in line next to Eric, while Tony was helped onto the bench, then held down. Tony's five whacks and the ensuing screaming, were a blur in Corey's world of pain. He just stood their wishing this day would end quickly.

Soon enough Corey found himself on his back on the bench, being cleaned and powdered. This was so humiliating, a 12-year-old being cleaned and powdered like a pants-wetting preschooler after his spanking. Corey moved his arms around as much as possible before a clean pair of his own Jockey briefs was put on him and his hands were cuffed behind his back again. Then Eric was cleaned and powdered, clean briefs on his hips. Corey noticed that Boss Lemmon had showed up some time during the clean up. He consulted with Jeff privately before leaving the area.

Eventually lunch time was called. All four boys were grateful when their cuffs were removed so they could eat normally. The big problem was finding a way to sit on the hard wooden picnic benches. Corey's butt was so very sore, and his briefs provided no real protection to his wounded seat. It would soon get even more sore, he knew. Jerry was finally starting to act nervous, shifting himself around uncomfortably on the picnic bench.

Corey thought the food was pretty good, it was better than the food they served as school back home. The problem was the 16 ounces of water he was forced to drink. The afternoon promised to be interesting.

Jerry finshed his lunch fairly quickly. He asked Paulie to cuff his hands behind his back again. Then he strode purposefully out of the picnic area and walked over next to a tree. Then the boy turned to proudly face his fellow campers, spread his legs as far apart as possible - his briefs tented rather obviously. Time seemed to stand still, everyone watching expectantly. Corey knew they were all about to get whacked again. His sore bottom cheeks cringed at the very thought.

Jerry stood there, then grunted in relief as his pee began spurting out the front of his tented briefs under pressure. Corey wondered about Jerry's weird stance. Then he noticed that even as the flow out of Jerry's undies lessened, no pee ran down his thighs. Not a bad idea, Corey thought.

Just when everyone thought he was done, Jerry grunted again, and a powerful new flow of pee poured out of his briefs. Corey couldn't believe it. His grandfather would have said that "Jerry's back teeth must have been floating."

The other three prisoners were re-cuffed while Jerry peed. When Jerry finally finished, Paulie removed his soiled briefs. Then everyone retired to their old bench by the lakeside. They all gathered around, and Jerry took his place across the end of the bench.

Crraacckk! Jerry gasped as the first whack forced the air from his lungs. But he made no other move or sound.

Crrraacckk! Jerry hardly reacted, except for involuntary movements from the whack itself. Corey was torn between admiring him and thinking he was a terrible showoff.

Crrraaacckk! Again Jerry hardly reacted. Corey was getting tired of this.

Crrraaaccckkk! "Yeow!" Jerry yelped. Jeff looked as satisfied as Corey felt that a sound was finally forced out of Jerry.

Crrrraaaacccckkkk! "Oooowww!!" Jerry howled. He shook his head and his left leg flew up briefly. Corey knew that was the hardest whack yet. He sure hoped that Jeff wasn't just getting warmed up for *him*.

When Jerry got up off the bench, his didn't dance, but he was clenching and unclenching his butt cheeks rather rhythmically. Eric went over the bench next, howled pretty good from the first whack, and took his five pretty well. They all seemed normal strength.

Corey climbed back into his all-too-familiar position over the end of the bench. Here he was once again, staring at the tented front of Kyle's swim suit while the little pervert held him down on the bench. If Jeff uses normal strength whacks, and with his numb backside he just...

Crraacckk! "Ooowwww!!" Corey yelled loudly. He managed to hold still, but his butt was no longer numb! Crap, his nerves must have reset while he was eating....

Crraaacckk! "Nooo!!" Corey screamed, shaking his head. Both legs kicked, then he settled down again. This was definitely going to be a long afternoon.

Crraaaccckk! "Yeeeeoooww!!" Corey cried out, blinking through the tears that suddenly filled his eyes. He could see the tent in Kyle's swim suit actually grow a bit, as his boyhood probed the fabric against which it strained. This was getting really old.

Crrraaaccckk! "Nooo!" Corey howled. His legs thrashed around of their own accord. He brought them back under control. Corey was dimly aware that there was only one more whack to go.

Crrraaaccckkk! "Oooww!" Corey groaned. He managed to keep still, because his bottom was getting numb again. Finally! Just when it was too late to do any good. He laid there, depressed, still blinking away his tears.

Suddenly Corey became aware of a disturbance. Tony was screaming, "No! Nooo!" Great, the little coward didn't want to take his turn riding the bench next. Corey was disgusted with this little creep. He turned to look over his shoulder at Tony standing there screaming.

Corey's disgust quickly turned to horror when he noticed the stream of pee running out of Tony's briefs to splash on the ground. The little turd had pissed himself in fear, watching Corey taking his whacks, and knowing that he was next.

Corey looked at Jerry and Eric, seeing the looks of disbelief on their faces. Tony had just sentenced them all to five more whacks. Eventually Tony finished peeing, and he just stood there sobbing patheticly. Jeff turned back to Corey, still lying on the bench. "Corey, do you want these next five whacks now," Jeff asked, "or do you want to wait until the others have got theirs?"

This didn't take much thought on Corey's part. "I'll take them now, Jeff," Corey said, turning back to face Kyle's crotch again. His plan worked almost perfectly. The sixth whack scared him and caused him to yelp loudly. The numbness apparently wore off in just a couple of minutes. But the seventh through tenth whacks were barely felt, his bottom just feeling completely numb and quite warm. Corey remembered to yelp and kick now and then. He didn't want Jeff to hit him any harder.

Corey could barely move when he got up off the bench. The paddlings of the other three boys was a blur in his world of pain. Tony got his ten whacks all at once - requiring assistance at all phases. Then Jerry and Eric both had to climb aboard for another set of five. Even Jerry was blinking tears from his eyes by the time he got up.

Jerry finally did show he was a 12-year-old boy and not a tough marine yet when he was on his back on the bench being cleaned and powdered. His face was bright red with humilation and his eyes leaked a few tears of shame as he was "babied" by the four little twerps. Tony had to be cleaned and powdered again, then everyone proceeded to their next activity. For Fox Cabin the next activity was canoeing. The prisoners didn't feel like sitting down, so they just stood, or walked around slowly on shore while the other campers canoed out on the lake.

After canoeing ended, the group moved to the Air Rifle range. Corey hated missing this activity, since he was really good with an air rifle. But Corey had another problem on his mind. His bladder was sending him those persistent messages again. From the looks of it, Eric was in trouble too. This was looking like another ten whack paddle session coming up. Not something any of them looked forward to. This day just couldn't end too soon.

But even the worst day ends eventually - late afternoon finally rolled around, and the four culprits were allowed to shower before dinner. It turned out that each boy would only be "playing the holding game" until he had wet three pairs of briefs. After that he could sit out the rest of the day, although they didn't really feel like sitting.

Eric and Tony were eliminated with their third wettings by mid afternoon. Corey wet his third pair of briefs about an hour before dinner. Jerry let loose, but only for the second time, just after Corey. So they each got ten whacks to end the festivities.

After their showers, the four very sore boys were surprised by the order to remain naked the rest of the evening. Corey had tremendous difficulty sitting during dinner. He ended up kneeling on the bench, keeping his bottom from touching anything. He felt better physically, but realized that he was displaying his bright red and blistered bottom to everyone behind him. Corey was made to drink another 16 ounce glass of water with dinner, and he wondered why.

After dinner Boss Lemmon called them up to the front of the hall for their final humilation. They were made to stand facing the campers while Boss Lemmon called the four "victims" forward. The four younger boys approached, each carrying a plastic bag. Corey thought they looked real familiar. Sure enough...

"Hood them!" ordered Boss Lemmon. Corey stood helplessly as Kyle dug one of the pairs of Corey's pee-soaked briefs out of the bag and placed it over Corey's head. The smirking little demon rubbed the wet crotch in Corey's face before dipping his hand in the bag for the next one. Soon Corey was standing there with all three pee-soaked garments over his head. He was unable to see, and had to be led over to the wall.

His hands were cuffed behind his back again, and Corey just stood there along with his friends, their blazing, blistered bottoms on display as a warning to any camper who might think of emulating their behavior.

After a couple of minutes Corey heard Jeff address them. "You guys will be left here as a warning for about two and a half hours. No talking or moving is allowed, with one exception. If you need to pee, just take one step back from the wall. A boy will help you use the chamber pot. Do whatever he says. Understand?"

"Yes, Jeff." said Corey. He could hear the muffled acknowledgements from the others.

Corey couldn't believe this unbelievable ending to an unbelievable day. He really wished that Jerry had never heard of that "trick" they played.

The smell of stale piss was soon overpowering. Corey had to consciously fight the urge to vomit. He heard voices in the room, but everything was muffled by the "hood" on his head. After an hour or so he realized with a shock that we was wearing three pairs of soiled briefs. His briefs, that would have to be inspected next Thursday at laundry inspection. This meant he was in for at least six whacks from Miss Bertha's laundry brush on his bare backside.

Corey suddenly needed to pee. He didn't know how long it would take someone to come help him, so he took a step back, away from the wall. It didn't take long. Within about thirty seconds Corey heard footsteps.

"Right face, Corey." ordered an unfamiliar voice. It was definitely a little kid - one of the shrimps. How humiliating! Corey complied with the order. He heard the muffled but distinctive sound of the lid being removed from the enamelware chamber pot.

"Okay, Corey. Let her rip!" piped the unfamiliar little'un.

This was so weird, peeing without holding his wiener or being able to aim, or even see where to aim. Corey said a silent prayer that the kid knew what he was doing, then let loose. Sounds were muffled, but it sounded like there was already liquid in there when he started. So he wasn't the first one to need relief. Corey felt a strange sense of pride at that thought.

His pride vanished quickly when he realized that unseen kids were chanting, "Go Corey! Go!" He shut down his stream abruptly, blushing furiously as he remembered that everyone in the hall could see him peeing. Trouble was he still needed relief, so he had to deliberately force his bladder muscles to contract, forcing the rest of its contents out through his wiener, which mercifully was not stiff.

Once his flow ended, Corey heard the question, "Done?" He nodded his head, then nearly jumped out of his skin when he felt a strange hand seize his wiener and shake it. Jesus Christ! His wiener got stiff almost instantly. The kid giggled, then said, "Left face, Corey."

Corey turned, his rigid wiener bobbing in front of him. "One step forward." Corey complied. "Now just stay there." ordered the tyke, and then Corey heard the footsteps recede.

Corey stood there, his stomach churning and head spinning. That was so weird, having another boy shake his wiener like that. The weirdest part was he didn't even know who it was. At least he would find out as soon as they were released.

Eventually the offenders were uncuffed and they were able to take the briefs off their heads. The little'un and his chamber pot were nowhere to be seen, so that mystery still needed to be solved. Now every time he saw a little'un the rest of the summer Corey would wonder if that was the kid who had touched him.

They were given the plastic bags to carry the soiled briefs back to the cabin. Jeff recommended they just put the plastic bags in their laundry bags so the soaked garments didn't soil any of their other clothes. "No sense getting it any worse at laundry inspection next week than you have to." Jeff said.

Tony had clearly not thought of this, and tears sprang to his eyes at the thought of the spanking he had coming from Miss Bertha.

Corey slept restlessly that night. He wasn't used to sleeping in the nude - they wouldn't be allowed clean briefs until after their shower in the morning and he didn't have a dry swim suit. His seriously damaged backside forced him to sleep on his belly, and he was terrified that if he started rubbing his wiener on the mattress in his sleep that he would wet his sheets again. There was no way Corey could withstand five swats from Jeff's paddle at morning inspection. It was a long night after a long day.

 
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